


Trials and Tribbile-ations.

by ThePoetess



Series: Star Trek [4]
Category: Star Trek
Genre: Adventure, Gen, Hate, Love, Star Trek - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 05:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10530273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePoetess/pseuds/ThePoetess
Summary: The crew of the Enterprise find themselves in a furry predicament.





	1. A Rose by Any Other Name.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Star Trek fans everywhere](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Star+Trek+fans+everywhere).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A McCoy, Spock, Sulu, Chekhov, and Irina Chapter

"I didn't think Mister Scott vould ewer go for zhe brainy type." A grinning and rather dirty Pavel Andrievich Chekov said as he flipped onto his aching back, forced his welding goggles down over his eyes, shimmied under the aft right engine, and waited for Hikaru Sulu to hand him a space wrench. His hand was left empty. Hikaru Sulu sat cross legged on the floor and smiled teasingly "Really Pavel, I don't think he's even noticed she has a brain." Pavel removed his head from under the engine and twisted around to look at his best friend "You think so?" Sulu nodded and gave his younger friend a look of worldly knowing "Of course he hasn't, I mean, what do you see when you first meet a woman?" Pavel had slid back under the engine and his voice was muffled "I see her face, I think zhat is vhat most of us see first. Honestly Sulu, vhat I don't - could you hand me zhat wrench? No, zhat one, no!" he sighed resentfully, Hikaru was teasing him again.

"Mr. Chekhov, did you break my ship!?" Chekhov smiled nervously "I'll get back to you on zhat Keptin." Kirk scowled "Excellent, just excellent. Oh, Sulu, is the doctor with you, or will I find him flying the ship? As you should be Mr. Sulu." An irritated James Tiberius Kirk paced back and forth.

"Until I saw you, there was nothing in my heart. It sustained my life, but nothing more. Now it sings. I could be happy to have that feeling for a day, a week, a month, a year." Pavel Chekhov sat stiffly on his semi uncomfortable bed as he sipped down the last of a bottle of Vodka. A delirious smile played across his lips, Irina's words in his mind were beautiful, oddly biting, cold. "A lot can happen in a year. Irina, I've been in love vith you since the first day I met you." She didn't say she loved him, she stared into his pleading face, his pleading brown eyes, "Why have you stayed away? Irina?" She scowled "Because I believed you disapproved of me, just as you do now. Oh Pavel, you have always been like this, so correct. And inside, the struggle not to be. Give in to yourself, you will be happier, you'll see." She'd started to walk away and tried to hide the tears, she whispered a silent goodbye as he watched her go, both hearts breaking. He took another sip of Vodka. He stood, deciding to take his shore leave now, maybe there would be a bar on the planet and he could get another drink. He met Scotty and Jaylah in the hallway with a couple of redshirts. 

"Oh...I just remembered: There is one Earth man who doesn't remind me of a Regulan bloodworm. That's Kirk. A Regulan bloodworm is soft and shapeless. But Kirk isn't soft. Kirk may be a swaggering, overbearing, tin-plated dictator with delusions of godhood, but he's not soft." Korax, the Klingon smiled, leaning over into Chekhov's face. Chekhov and Scotty ignored him  
"When are you going to get off that milk diet, lad?"  
"This is wodka."  
"Where I come from, that's soda pop. Now this is a drink for a man."  
"Scotch?" Chekhov gave a wry smile  
"Aye." Chekhov smiled and raised his glass in a toast  
"It was invented by a little old lady from Leningrad." Korax banged his fist for attention and spoke loudly  
"Of course, I'd say that Captain Kirk deserves his ship. We like the Enterprise. We, we really do. That sagging old rust bucket is designed like a garbage scow. Half the quadrant knows it. That's why they're learning to speak Klingonese."  
Scotty pulled his phaser "Know one calls the Enterprise a garbage scow!" "Mr. Scott!" Chekhov plucked the phaser from Scotts hand and handed it to Jaylah for safe keeping  
Scotty stood angrily, leaning over the table, "Laddie...don't you think you should...rephrase that a wee bit?"  
Mocking Scotty's accent Korax said with a smile curling over his face "You're right. I should. But I won't, so I shan't." The Klingon took Scotty by his collar and sneered into his face "I didn't mean to say that the Enterprise should be hauling garbage. I meant to say that it should be hauled away as garbage." It was Chekhov that stood, setting his glass down, he wiped his mouth across his sleeve and stared into the Klingon's face "Vhat did you say about zhe Enterprise?" A fist smacked into his face after a heavily worded insult. Luckily Jaylah was there. There were some things you just didn't insult and the Enterprise was one of them.

Kirk stood in the middle of a recently torn apart bar and looked about "Who started the fight?" Scotty wiped the blood from his lip "Eh sir, captain, it was mutual sir," Jaylah let go of the Klingon she'd been beating into the floor and Chekhov dropped the smashed bottle he'd been holding. Scotty took a sip of Vodka and laughed "I was right Laddie, this is a milk diet, I canna drink this." Kirk scowled "Mr. Chekhov, report to sickbay immediately," Chekhov nodded, hating the attention the Keptin had drawn to him. A smiling Hikaru Sulu wrapped his friend's arm over his shoulder "Had fun I see?" Chekhov smiled through the pain and slowly drying blood on his face, "Zhey insulted zhe Enterprise and zhe Keptin." Sulu smiled teasingly "So you had to start a mini war with the Klingons." Chekhov blanched "Know one insults zhe Enterprise." 


	2. The Tribble

"Captain, I'm beginning to understand why you earth men enjoy gambling. No matter how carefully one computes the odds of success, there is still a certain... exhilaration in the risk."  
"Very good, Spock. We may make a Human of you yet."  
"I hope not." Jim Kirk winked as he slid onto a bar seat next to an irritated Bones McCoy and Spock "Well, that's the second time man's been thrown out of Paradise." Leonard McCoy grumbled as he fell dejectedly into a chair next to Kirk, who leaned over the bar, snatched a bottle of Scotch and poured it into three shot glasses, as he replied   
"No, no, Bones, this time we walked out on our own. Maybe we weren't meant for paradise. Maybe we were meant to fight our way through, struggle, claw our way up, scratch for every inch of the way. Maybe we can't stroll to the music of the lute. We must march to the sound of drums." Bones took a large gulp of the scotch and grimaced, then set the empty glass down on the flaking wood table "Some drums Jim," Jim Kirk took a sip of the Scotch and sighed "Relax Bones, nothing bad is going to - Ensign Chekhov, what is that?" Kirk had just noticed Chekhov and Nyota Uhura talking animatedly together as they walked somewhat quickly towards the exit, followed by a smiling Hikaru Sulu. Chekhov turned and put on his best puppy dog eyes, which he turned full force on the captain "Nothing Keptin," he quickly hid the puffball creature from sight behind his back, Uhura followed suit next to him, "we should get back to the ship, captain." Sulu couldn't hold back a snigger as Uhura and Chekhov exited the premises.


End file.
